


O Night Divine

by willowwand



Series: Little Bludger Series [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post Hogwarts AU, Written Pre-Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7023064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowwand/pseuds/willowwand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione gives Ron exactly the right gift for Christmas.</p>
<p>First published at the now-defunct R/Hr (Romione) site Checkmated on December 20, 2006.</p>
<p>Written before the release of Deathly Hallows, therefore it only follows canon through Half-Blood Prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Night Divine

The room was littered with scraps of brightly colored paper and boxes were scattered across the floor, the remnants of a lovely Christmas. As Hermione sipped a cup of peppermint tea and cuddled against Ron’s side, he absentmindedly stroked her stomach, looking very much like he was about to doze off.

 

Typically they spent Christmas at the Burrow with Ron’s family. This year, however, Bill and Fleur had invited the entire family to their home in Paris. Ron and Hermione had been forced to decline the invitation, because she had been having a difficult time with morning sickness and was unable to travel by Portkey. So they had expected a quiet day at home with their son, Edward. They had asked Hermione’s parents to come for dinner, and had figured that Fred and George –who had left their shop open late on Christmas Eve for last minute holiday shoppers and couldn’t find a Portkey on Christmas morning – would probably pop in for a hot meal as well.

 

Eddie got so many lovely gifts. Although Hermione remembered having a conversation with Ron months ago about precisely what gifts they would get him, she wasn’t surprised to see extra packages for Edward under the Christmas tree. Hermione knew it was Ron’s attempt at giving their son as much as he could, having spent so many Christmases in his childhood with very few gifts. She had watched, amused, as Ron excitedly watched Eddie open his gifts. It was the first year that Eddie really understood what he was doing, and his enthusiasm was infectious.

 

The toy broomstick Eddie had got from Father Christmas went well with the set of Cannons robes that Harry and Ginny had given him, and the Quidditch set that Viktor Krum and his wife, Kasmira sent him. Much to Hermione’s dismay Eddie had zoomed happily around the room on his new broomstick, clearly taking after his father. Most toy broomsticks didn’t travel very fast and so she wondered, as the toddler sped recklessly to and fro, if Ron, Harry, and the twins hadn’t tinkered with it to make it faster.

 

Ron nudged her, breaking her from her thoughts. “You aren’t still angry, are you?”

 

She frowned. The twins had shown up an hour into dinner carrying a large crate between them.

 

*~*

 

_“Watch out,” Fred warned._

_“Dangerous specimen here,” George added._

_Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What are you two doing?”_

_“Sorry we’re late, dear sister-in-law,” George said._

_“We had to pop up to Scotland,” Fred added. “Hagrid procured this little beauty for us.”_

_“What?” Hermione squealed, and Ron placed a hand on her arm in a vain attempt to keep her calm._

_Her mind raced with thoughts of the Blast-ended Skrewts from her fourth year. With a glance at her parents, she gathered that they were rather nervous as well._

_“It’s a gift for the Little Bludger, of course,” George said, gathering Edward into his arms._

_“Present!” Eddie cried._

_“Oh, no,” Hermione said. “You are not giving my son something that Hagrid bred!”_

_“It isn’t anything dangerous” Fred scoffed._

_“Not at all,” said his twin. “The Ministry classifies it as a Category Three. “‘A competent wizard should cope’.”_

_“That rules out Ronniekins, of course, but…”_

_“Oi!” Ron protested._

_“Are you ready, Little Bludger?” Fred asked his nephew._

_The little boy nodded, grinning widely._

_“I’ll do the honors, then,” George said, tapping the side of the crate with his wand._

_“Now wait just a min –”_

_But no one heard her, as just then the side of the crate melted away and out came a very small puppy. It was almost pure white, but had auburn markings on its face… and a forked tail._

_“Why it’s a Jack Russell terrier,” Hermione’s father chuckled._

_“No, it’s a Crup,” Hermione corrected, her eyes flashing. Immediately she rounded on Ron, who threw up his hands defensively._

_“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” he protested. “They’re the ones who brought it.”_

_The argument was quickly cut off when Eddie squealed in delight and knelt down to stroke the little dog. The puppy immediately took to the little boy, licking his face._

_Hermione moaned. “He’s too young for a pet, and we haven’t got a license for it, and the tail isn’t even cropped.”_

_Her mother looked a bit shocked at the puppy’s strange tail. “What’s a Crup, dear?”_

_“It’s a magical creature,” she explained. “A dog bred by wizards. But it’s…”_

_Before she could stop him, her father had gotten up from the table and bent down to see the little dog. Right away, the puppy growled and launched at him, biting his knee._

_“Bloody hell!” Hermione’s father exclaimed and quickly returned to his seat at the table._

_“I was trying to warn you,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Crups don’t exactly trust Muggles.”_

_“He will in time,” George said. “Hagrid told us he’d been training him. The pup just needs to see that he’s not a threat to Eddie.”_

_“So, what’re you going to call him?” Fred asked the toddler._

_Hermione shot a look at Ron, but she knew there was nothing they could do. The expression on Eddie’s face clearly ruled out any hope of having the twins taking it back._

_“How about Fluffy?” Ron said, with a wink to Hermione._

_Fred rolled his eyes. “It has to be something mean and scary like Killer or Fang.”_

_“Fang isn’t scary at all,” Hermione said, with a snort, thinking of Hagrid’s ancient boarhound._

_The little boy scrunched up his forehead in the way Ron always said reminded him of Hermione when she was riddling out some problem._

_“His name Spider,” Eddie said finally._

_The twins howled with laughter, and Ron glared at them. Hermione’s parents looked politely bewildered._

_“Er, why do you want to call him Spider, love?” Hermione asked._

_“ ‘Cos Spiders scary, yeah, Daddy?” Eddie said seriously._

_Ron frowned at his – still laughing – brothers. “Yes, love. Spiders are scary.”_

_“Well then,” Fred began, tears of mirth still shining in his eyes. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s tuck in.”_

_“I’m famished,” George agreed, sitting down beside his twin at the table._

 

*~*

 

Hermione sighed and shook her head at the memory. “No, I’m just thinking,” she said, leaning forward and placing her now-empty cup on the table.

 

When she scooted back to her spot beside Ron she noticed he had an odd look on his face.

 

“Are you all right?” she asked, a little concerned.

 

“Oh… yes. It’s just…” he hesitated. “I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas.”

 

Hermione’s heart sank. “But, Ron… All you talked about for months is how you wanted that broom. I had to special order it from…”

 

“No, love, not the broom. I love it, it’s…”

 

Hurt and a little angry, Hermione looked up at him and had just opened her mouth to speak when she noticed the expression of longing present in his eyes. Instantly, she knew quite clearly what he wanted for Christmas.

 

“Ron…” she said, blushing.

 

She cast a glance over her shoulder at their son. Eddie was sprawled out under the Christmas tree fast asleep, his stuffed dragon Norbert clutched tightly against his chest. His new pet Spider was dozing curled up at his feet.

 

“We can put him to bed,” Ron suggested. “He’s knackered as it is. With as much fun as he had today he’ll be out until morning, and we can… unless… well, if you’re tired, we don’t have to… I mean.”

 

His ears turned pink and he looked flustered, as if he was upset with himself for mentioning it. She frowned, knowing he was concerned because of the pregnancy. Lately she’d been so tired and queasy that she’d often go to bed early, leaving Ron to give Eddie a bath and put him to bed. Ron never complained, but she knew he missed being with her. She missed it too.

 

She stood and held out her hand to him. “Come on, then.”

 

“You’re sure,” he asked.

 

“I’m sure,” she said, smiling.

 

He grinned, looking very pleased as he got to his feet and took her hand into his. They walked toward the Christmas tree, and Ron let go of her to kneel beside their sleeping son. Spider awoke with whimper and wagged his forked tail.

 

Ron lifted his son, still grasping Norbert the dragon, into his arms and carried him to Eddie’s bedroom, Hermione and Spider following close behind.  Eddie stirred slightly when Ron set him down in his bed and tucked the blankets around him, but continued sleeping. Spider jumped up onto the bed, too, much to Hermione’s chagrin, and took his position at Eddie’s feet. Then, Ron and Hermione took turns kissing their son goodnight and walked slowly out of the room.

 

“There,” Ron said, as he pulled at the door, leaving it ajar. “Ready for bed?”

 

She laughed softly at his eager expression. “Come here,” she said, linking her arms around his neck.

 

She sighed as his hands slid around her waist and pulled her closer. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the mouth.  His lips were warm and a little wind roughened from flying around the garden earlier that afternoon.  He tasted like the hot cocoa he drank earlier, which mingled nicely with the taste of peppermint tea still on her tongue. All too soon, he pulled back and took her hand in his once more.

 

Together they approached their bedroom and went inside. Ron locked the door with his wand and immediately reached for Hermione. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. She bit back a moan, not wanting things to progress too quickly and knowing that would likely set Ron off. It wasn’t as though they never kissed anymore, but with talking care of Eddie and maintaining their cottage there wasn’t a lot of time to kiss _like this_. God, she missed it.

 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, feeling lost in the sensation of being held tightly in Ron’s arms, of the gentle stroking of his tongue against hers, of his fingers wrapping around her bushy curls. She ran her hands up his chest and linked them around his neck, playing with his soft, ginger hair which fell long to the nape of his neck.

 

She wasn’t sure how long they’d been kissing when her legs hit against something solid. She opened one eye and noticed he’d backed her up toward the bed. Realizing that it was probably uncomfortable for him to have to lean down for so long, she scooted back onto the bed. He crawled forward after her, never breaking their kiss.

 

Holding her tightly with one arm, he let his other hand trail from her cheek, down her side, tracing the curves of her body. Pressed together as they were, she could feel his heart beating, strong and fast, against her chest. She raised her hand to his face and caressed his stubble-roughened jaw. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and leaned back on his elbow to look at her.

 

He was so handsome. His red hair was mussed and his lips were wet and plump from her kisses. As he gazed lovingly at her, she felt her heart swell with emotion and pulled him back down to her, burying her face into his shoulder. He smelled of pine and winter air.

 

“I love you,” she whispered against his neck.

 

“What’s that, love?” She could feel the vibration of his laugh against her face.  “Could you repeat that? Didn’t quite hear you.”

 

“Prat.”

 

He nudged her head backward so that their foreheads were touching. “Say it again,” he urged.

 

“Make me.”

 

“Oh, I will,” he said with a glint of mischief in his eye. “By the end of the night, I’m going to have you screaming it.”

 

Hermione moaned and kissed him hard. In an instant it seemed as if the very air around them had changed. She could feel it, like electricity, as if the force of their magic was merging as their desire reached new heights.

 

Even though she didn’t remember getting undressed, before she knew it the floor of their bedroom was littered with her dressing gown and nightdress and his pyjamas, and she felt the incredible sensation of Ron’s bare skin against hers. He cupped her breasts, letting his fingers graze lightly over her nipples. Hermione whimpered when she felt him growing harder against her stomach. She resisted the urge to touch him there, hoping to drag out the feeling even longer. But he was intent on driving her mad, with his deep, slow kisses and feather-light caresses. Needing to gain back some of the control he was desperately trying to shatter, she let her mouth trail wetly along his rough jaw up to his ear, flicking her tongue against his earlobe. He shuddered and let out a deep groan.

 

“D-don’t do that,” he said shakily.

 

“Why not?” She drew his earlobe into her mouth and sucked gently.

 

Ron groaned again, and Hermione felt his arm slide under her body, holding her flush against him. In a swift motion he flipped their positions to where she was sprawled on top of him.

 

“Ron!” she squeaked, struggling to sit up, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

 

“Hmm?” he asked distractedly, as he gazed up at her.

 

It was silly; it wasn’t as though they were new at this. She just wasn’t too comfortable being so exposed, with the way he was lying there drinking in every inch of her body, especially now that her tummy was starting to bulge, her skin stretching unattractively to add to the marks she already had from carrying Eddie.

 

Self-consciously, she placed a hand over her curved belly. “I’m not… I mean, I don’t think…”

 

“You’re so bloody beautiful,” he blurted out, not listening to a word she was saying.

 

He slid his hands over her belly tracing the pale marks on her abdomen with his fingers. It was the same way she often traced the scars that ran over his arms and chest from the brains that had attacked him in their fifth year in the Department of Mysteries. Overcome with emotion at such a tender action, Hermione leaned forward and embraced him tightly, feeling tears slide down her cheeks.  

 

“You all right?” he asked fearfully.

 

“Fine,” she sniffed. “You’re just… perfect.”

 

Even in the dim light she could see his ears turn red. She chuckled softly and wiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ron.  I still haven’t given you your Christmas present.”

 

“This is nice, too, if you’d rather…”

 

She shook her head. It wasn’t enough. She needed to be with him, to have him inside her, filling her. She ran her hand down his stomach to his waiting erection and stroked him, “Do you really want to stop?”

 

“If you… _oh God_ , I mean… if you don’t…”

 

Hermione quickened her hand, smiling at how his eyes rolled back in pleasure. “Do you want me to stop, Ron?”

 

“No... Please, d-don’t stop,” he whimpered.

 

She smiled and continued to run her hand up and down his silky skin. He was so hard and thick, and she felt her cheeks heat in anticipation. Soon, Ron’s hips bucked off the bed and he grabbed her wrist to still her movements. It was no matter; she was more than ready. Hermione placed her knees on either side of his hips, raised herself up and guided him to her entrance. He placed his hands on her hips and slowly she sank down onto him. They both groaned. It had been too long.

 

 Ron pulled his knees up behind her bum and Hermione began to rock her hips slowly against his.  He thrust upward, trying to get her to quicken the pace, but she continued to grind her pelvis lazily against his, enjoying the way the tension was building up inside of her.

 

“Hermione,” he moaned in protest. “Please... Faster.”

 

Ron rolled her nipples between his fingers, sending bursts of pleasure through Hermione’s body. She moaned, but didn’t break from the torturously slow rhythm that she was enjoying. Ron slid one of his hands behind her back and urged her forward, taking one of her breasts into his mouth. That was all it took; immediately she felt her body tense up with the need for release.  She gripped his hips with her knees and rolled herself onto her back.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him buried deep within her.

 

Ron groaned and attacked her neck with wet kisses, nipping at her collarbone. “Hermione… so good.”

 

Their eyes locked and she shivered at the intensity of his arousal. He pulled out of her only to push back inside, thrusting slowly at first. The pressure was building inside her yet again, but she knew he was so much further along than she was. Reaching her hand down, Hermione rubbed herself just above where they were joined.

 

Ron watched her avidly, quickening his rhythm, and she began to move her hips in time with his again.  He leaned down on one elbow and buried his face into her neck, thrusting harder and deeper.

 

Hermione was overcome by sensation: the rough friction of his bristly cheek against hers, the soft tickle of his hot breath against her neck, the bead of sweat that was slowly making its way down her forehead, the way he stretched her almost to the point where she couldn’t take it. It was too much…

 

“Oh, Ron…love you…” she moaned, and it felt like every muscle in her body tightened.

 

Finally the tension gave way to complete bliss. She felt like her body was made of liquid but she clung to Ron nevertheless. Hermione reached around to caress his bum, feeling the muscles tense as he continued to drive into her. It took only two more stokes before he moaned her name loudly and filled her with his warmth.

 

For a long time, they stayed in that position, not wanting to break their connection. They continued to kiss and caress each other, reveling in the feeling of closeness that always followed their lovemaking. Eventually Hermione unwrapped her legs from around his waist, and he shifted off of her. 

 

“Thank you,” Ron muttered as he draped his arm over Hermione’s belly.

 

“Did you enjoy your gift?” Hermione asked coyly.

 

“I did,” he grinned. “Now that’s the sort of gift I wouldn’t mind getting every year.”

 

Hermione smiled. “Well, maybe if you’re good...”

 

Ron smirked. “Oh, I will be,” he said, and then he proceeded to show her just how good he could be.


End file.
